HI GUYS, HOW'S IT BEEN, LONG TIME NO SEE, LOOK I WROTE SOMETHING.
*DISCLAIMER* I make no claim to own Tremors or its characters. They are the property of Universal Studios. No profit is made from this writing.
"You went to Africa? Without me?!"
Burt winced as he put his truck in park. "Hi, Tyler."
"Don't 'Hi Tyler' me!" Tyler snapped. "What the hell, Burt? I go into Bixby for one afternoon and you leave the continent? For an assignment? I thought we were partners!"
"Hey, you've gone solo on me before," Burt shot back defensively.
"You were already busy! It's not the same! Why didn't you call me?"
Burt sighed. "I don't know, I guess the casting department couldn't get a hold of you."
Tyler crossed his arms and fumed.
"Um," Travis spoke up from the passenger seat, where he'd been silently watching the exchange. "If it makes you feel better, we were hired by a crook who couldn't actually pay us. I'm assuming, he actually got eaten before we could talk about payment, but I'm pretty sure he wasn't gonna make good on that."
Tyler stared at the new guy for a moment before moving his eyes back to Burt. "'We were hired'?" he repeated. Burt slunk down in his seat. "Who the hell even is this guy?!"
"Oh, Travis Welker, Burt's long lost son, nice to meet you," Travis said, offering his hand across his aforementioned father's chest with a grin. Burt was far too slow in trying to stop him from divulging that little piece of information. Accepting his doom, he slid down even further.
Several long, awkward seconds dragged by as Tyler just stared. Travis' smile grew nervous, glancing back and forth between a shrinking Burt and a shell-shocked Tyler. No one said anything. No one moved.
Just as Travis was about to pull his unaccepted hand back, Tyler raised his. Pointing slowly towards Travis as he looked down at Burt, too stunned to still be angry.
"He's your what now?"
It's a short first chap, but I really wanted to end with that sentence. More up soon, we all hope.